


Darts Not Bullets

by TheQueerestWriter



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Curses, Drabble, Fluff, Fun, Humor, Jason got cursed, Magic, after effects of magic, antics, guns don't work now, it's just for fun, nerf guns, only nerf darts come out, prompted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueerestWriter/pseuds/TheQueerestWriter
Summary: From a prompt, Jason got cursed and now all his guns only shoot nerf darts. It's what it says on the tin, Jason's guns only shoot foam darts.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 1
Kudos: 88





	Darts Not Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a prompt, and Calamityjim also wrote one. Go check theirs out, it's great.

“Hood! We need your help!” Nightwing yelled into the coms. Someone had started to rebuild Gotham’s drug empire and the whole crew was on deck, well, the whole crew minus Red Hood. He was nowhere to be seen, and hadn’t been for nearly a week.

“I’m a little busy elsewhere,” Hood growled back through the coms. 

“Hood, get here now,” Batman ordered, and when the Bat told you to do something, you did it.

“On my way,” Hood said simply. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They were pinned down in the warehouse. Tim was desperately trying to hack into the drug sellers’ security system to get eyes on more of the building. Robin was already down with a few cracked ribs, and Dick was separated from his family, pinned down behind a pile of crates, bullets flew whenever he showed any patch of blue around his cover. The goons were armed with armor piercing bullets that not even Bat armor could stop.

A dull roar preceded Red Hood’s arrival, and the group was expecting him to charge in guns blazing, but he didn’t. Instead, he crashed his bike right through a window of the building and started throwing batarangs. Nightwing popped up from where he’d been hiding, his attackers distracted by the loud arrival of his brother, and went on the attack. 

“Hood!” Nightwing greeted cheerily. “No guns today?” 

“Nope,” Jason said as he slugged a man in the jaw, and the goon dropped. “Trying something else,” Jason held up his fists where brass knuckles were slipped over his leather gloves. Nightwing frowned, not exactly pleased with this development. 

“Hood, behind you,” Batman warned and the vigilante whirled, finding a gun pointed at his face. Instead of ducking, he grabbed the barrel and ripped it out of the goon’s hands. He punched his attacker for good measure, before flipping the gun around and ripping the clip out, tossing both pieces to the ground. 

“Are your weapons damaged, Hood?” Robin growled. “Or are you finally following father’s rules?”

“Come out of your hiding stop and I’ll show you!” Hood growled, pulling a handgun out of his belt and aiming it in the general direction where Robin was still hiding. 

“Hood!” Nightwing yelled in warning as another goon aimed their weapon at the man; he was really off his game today. On instinct, Hood whirled and fired, but the weapon didn’t make the noise it was supposed to. Instead, it let out a barely audible pooft, and a small foam dart appeared stuck to the goon’s head. This startled the goon enough that he stopped his charge on Hood to pull the dart off his head. This was a mistake as the next thing the goon knew, Nightwing’s escrima stick slammed into his head, knocking him to the ground. 

“What the hell Hood?!” Nightwing demanded.

“Ugh,” Hood groaned. “Don’t ask.”

“Oh, I’m asking,” Nightwing pressed. 

“I’ll explain later,” Hood grumbled, barely audible over the noise of the fight. 

“Less talking, more fighting,” Batman ordered, and everyone shut up.

... 

Finally, they finished off the rest of the gunman, and the police arrived on scene to clean up the mess. 

“Okay, what the fuck was that?” Nightwing demanded, dragging Hood off to the side to question him, the rest of the family close behind. 

“What was what, Dickhead?” Hood growled. 

“What’s wrong with you guns?” Nightwing clarified, though he knew his brother was just deflecting. 

“Something’s wrong with Hood’s guns?” Red Robin asked, still fiddling with the computer in his gauntlet. 

“Yes,” Nightwing said, exasperated. “He wasn’t using them at all. And when he did, a nerf dart came out!” 

“Hood,” Batman growled, an order. 

“Oh my god, fine!” Hood said, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “I got cursed.”

“Cursed?” Batman asked. 

“Yes,” Hood growled. “Cursed. Every gun I try to fire only shoots nerf darts. See?” Hood snatched a fallen machine gun from the ground and aimed it at a wall. Everyone flinched as he squeezed the trigger, but it didn’t rain down a hail of bullets. Instead, a handful of suction cup darts shot out, sticking to the wall for a second before falling to the ground. Hood tossed the weapon down in disgust. Batman slowly walked over to the darts and picked a few up, examining them. 

“They seem real,” he said, turning them over. 

“Oh, they are,” Hood growled. Red Robin took one from Batman’s hand and squinted at it. 

“I’ll examine it and see if there is anything strange in it’s make up,” Red Robin said, slipping it into his pocket. “But it just looks like a normal foam dart.”

“When did this happen,” Batman questioned. 

“A week ago,” Hood groaned. 

“So that’s why you’ve been hiding from us,” Robin said, tone acsusing. Hood mumbled something that might have been a yes. 

“Are you going to help me fix this,” Hood asked, turning to Batman. The man crossed his arms and looked his son up and down. 

“You want me to help you fix a curse so that you can go back to shooting people whenever you want? Going against the code this family holds and using undo force on the people of this city?”

“Yes?” Hood squeaked. Batman slowly shook his head. Nightwing walked to his brother and grasped his shoulder in sympathy. 

“Sounds like a no, Little Wing,” Nightwing teased. Robin walked over to the gun that Red Hood had dropped and nudged it with his toe. 

“Robin,” Batman warned. 

“We should find out if the change is permanent, or only while Red Hood holds it,” Robin said firmly, as he picked up the weapon. He cast around for something safe to shoot and settled on the same brick wall Hood had fired at, deeming it sturdy enough to take a few shots. No one stopped him as he aimed, and fired. Several bullets screamed out of the weapon and into the wall. Robin stopped firing. 

“Give me that!” Hood demanded as he snatched the gun away. 

“I had to learn the extent of your curse!” Robin argued. Hood turned the gun over in his hands for a moment before firing it again. As before, only foam darts came out. He dropped it back to the ground. 

“This sucks,” Hood grumbled, hunching his shoulders and turning away from his family. Batman shook his head. 

“Everyone, return to the cave,” Batman ordered. “We’re done for the night.” He hoisted Robin onto this hip, with much complaining that he was fine from the boy, before grappling off into the night. 

“Sorry little bro,” Nightwing said, before he too left. 

“I’ll see if I can learn anything from these darts,” Red Robin said, walking around Hood to collect the rest of them from the ground. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“I thought Bat’s said he wasn’t going to help me,” Hood said, raising his head to look at his brother. “He’ll be mad if you do.” Red Robin shrugged. 

“I’m not going to help you break the curse,” Red Robin said, a mischievous tilt to his voice. “I’m just going to find out what all your curse entails. And hey, if that information helps you break the curse, that’s not really my fault it is?” the boy grinned. Red Hood’s shoulders loosened. 

“Thank’s Replacement,” Hood said, stepping forward to playfully punch the kid’s shoulder. Red Robin stepped back and glared at him. 

“Call me that ever again and I won’t help you,” he growled. Hood winced, realizing his mistake. 

“Sorry,” he said genuinely. Red Robin stared at him hard for a moment before his expression softened. 

“Cool. I’ll let you know what I find,” the kid said, before he too grappled away into the night. 

…

“I don’t get it,” Tim growled as he stared at the results displayed on the bat computer. 

“Don’t get what Timmy,” Jason sing-songed, annoyed. 

“I don’t get how the darts you fire don’t have any trace of anything on them!” Tim exclaimed. “They’re  _ way _ to clean. Even darts fresh out the box have some trace particles on them. But the ones that come out of your guns just have residue from the inside of the guns. They aren’t being teleported from somewhere else, they are literally being created every time you pull the trigger!” He threw himself back in his chair. “You’re guns don’t even have bullets in them right now and they still fire darts!”

“Hey, unlimited ammo,” Dick said chearily, as he slowly loaded the darts into a nerf gun. A pile of various styles sat on his table, all full of darts. 

“Where did you get those?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh, the store,” Dick rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Jason said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do you have those?” 

“For this,” Dick said as he took aim and fired across the mats toward Tim and Jason at the computer. The dart bounced harmlessly off Jason’s chest. The raven glared. 

“Really?” he demanded. Dick fired again, this time the dart bounced off Jason's head. “Would you quit it!” he growled. 

“Make me,” Dick stuck his tongue out. 

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Jason warned, but his usual threat went unheeded. 

“I wish to try,” Damian said, coming over from where he'd been exercising on the mats and selecting a gun from the pile. He turned it over in his hands for a moment before aiming it at Jason’s head and firing. This time, Jason ducked. The dart stuck to the computer screen and Tim exclaimed in displeasure. 

“That’s it,” Jason growled, pulling his twin pistols from his holsters and aiming at his brothers. He pushed Tim’s rolling chair off to the side and his brother yelped. 

“Run Dami!” Dick shouted in glee as he ducked behind the table, avoiding the hail of darts Jason sent over the railing at them. Damian rolled out of the way. 

“This is unfair!” the youngest complained when emptied his gun at Jason’s chest. “ _ He _ doesn’t run out of ammo!” 

“Who’s the one cursed here kid?” Jason grinned, a gleam in his eye. Dick leapt out from behind his cover, a nerf machine gun in his hands, and Jason’s eyes went big. He ducked behind the railing as Tim got hit with the barrage, falling from his chair with a squeak. 

“Oops, sorry Timmy!” Dick called. Jason got up and vaulted over the railing, falling the few feet to the main cave floor, and started his march toward Dick and his arsenal-of-plastic-and-foam-weaponry. He was halfway there when something crashed into him from behind. He kept his footing as Tim clung to his back. 

“Get off,” Jason growled, turning around so that Tim was getting hit by Dick and Damian’s onslaught instead of him. “Who’s side are you on?” he demanded. 

“My own!” Tim yelled as he tried to get Jason’s guns out of his hands; he couldn’t do that and hold on very well though. Jason smiled as a plan quickly formed in his mind. He charged backwards, and Tim yelped in surprise. Together, they crashed into Dick who squealed in delight as they all tumbled to the floor. 

“You three are pathetic,” Damain scolded from where he stood over them, still firing darts into their tangled bodies. 

“What is going on down there!” Bruce called from somewhere above them. Jason sat up fast and looked around at the mess of darts on the floor. 

“Shit,” he swore. 

“Not it!” Dick called. 

“Not it!” Tim said, bolting up from the tangle of limbs and running for the computer. 

“Not it!” Jason added, standing up and dusting himself off. 

“What does that mean?” Damian asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

“It means you get to clean up the darts,” Jason said, and gave little brother a shit eating grin.

“You guys suck,” Damian growled. Jason ruffled his brother's hair as he headed back to the computer. This curse might suck, but that had been  _ fun _ . 


End file.
